


Of Christmases Past

by spookywriter



Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, hickey doesn't have a great past but you know this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookywriter/pseuds/spookywriter
Summary: Irving inquires about Hickey's past.Day 4 - "an unexpected gift"





	Of Christmases Past

He can hardly count himself among the most observant of men, but even John is wholly aware of the impatience on his pupil’s face. Mr. Hickey squirms in his seat like a boy as John recounts the events of the birth of Jesus. What had seemed like a magnificent idea that very morning is now clearly a failure, as Mr. Hickey is not just familiar with the story, but in too foul of a mood to appreciate John’s attempt at bringing some Christmas spirit to their daily bible study.

It is not as if he can blame Mr. Hickey—save for their lamp-lit corner, the ship is alive with the sounds of merrymaking. Mr. Morfin leads the sailors in Christmas carols, while the faint strains of Gore’s flute can be heard from the officer’s mess. Tomorrow, on Christmas day, the Terrors have a full day of festivities planned, and excitement runs high. All the same, John had been determined not to let their lessons be interrupted.

But, at last, he is forced to shut the bible with a sense of finality.

“Are we done so soon?” Mr. Hickey feigns boredom, but there is no mistaking the light of anticipation in his eyes.

“I am content with your progress for today,” John says, with a smile that attempts to be gracious. “Besides, it is nearly Christmas. Consider it a gift.”

John suspects that Mr. Hickey is not accustomed to receiving gifts, and the hesitance in his pupil’s eyes confirm his theory. All the same, it is only a matter of seconds before he is all but leaping from his chair.

“Am I free to go, then?”

“Not just yet.” A smile pulls at his lips as the idea strikes him. “In exchange for your freedom, you owe me a story. Surely you have some fond memory of Christmas past to share.”

He cannot quite justify his interest in Mr. Hickey’s past. They are the farthest thing from friends—two men divided by rank, class, and by fundamental nature—and yet he cannot deny that, over the course of their many hours together, he has come to regard Mr. Hickey with something almost like affection. Besides, it is Christmas, and he cannot resist the urge to tease his mysterious companion. 

“Not that I recall, sir.”

“I find that hard to believe. At the very least, you must have some tale of mischief. I cannot imagine you were any less ill-behaved as a boy than you are now.”

At first, he thinks he has made Mr. Hickey angry. Maybe he has overstepped the boundaries of their odd relationship. He is well-aware of the man’s tempestuous nature. But his fears fade when Mr. Hickey begins to speak, in a tone far softer than he is accustomed to hearing.

“I thought I might invent a story for your amusement, sir, but the truth is that I have no pleasant memories of Christmas. My parents died soon after I was born. I didn’t often have a roof over my head on Christmas day.”

In his shock, John first considers that this might be some manipulative attempt at garnering pity. But such suspicious is uncharitable. He allows Mr. Hickey’s openness to touch him—it is, he thinks, an unexpected gift. A rare show of trust.

He places his hand atop Mr. Hickey’s. Though his companion flinches, he does not pull away. Then you will simply have to make new memories. Happy ones, with new family and new friends. Consider me among them.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Hickey.”

“Merry Christmas, sir.”


End file.
